Imagination
by psychedelic panda
Summary: No summary to be given. If one is the story will be ruined.


Only a simple action needed to consume me in darkness.

Into a blank empty space, vast and endless, where nothing can be seen or heard. The chill trickles along my skin, hairs rising like soldiers, poised and ready. What they await, no one will know. Joints stiff, fingers cold; I bend them and shake my arms, briefly making a full circle to gaze at this new world I was so cruelly thrown into.

Reach out if I will, feel the lack of life, part my lips and taste the bitter air, stale with the lack of life. Look around, stare into the darkness and search. Perhaps with time something will show itself.

And so it does.

Fur, I can see fur covering this little ball bouncing towards me. It is soft, silky sort of fur shaded in vibrant colours, plaid and striped. One long ear props upwards, the other remains flat against the skull. I remain staring, squinting and narrowing my eyes with hops to get a better look at this odd creature.

It stands.

It is no taller than me and wears a little vest, black embroidered with wine-coloured roses and swirls, deeply tinted sequins trimming its edges. His long tail swishes as his ears, which rather remind me of a rabbit's, twitch.

Beady eyes stare back at me.

We stare.

Then, suddenly, without warning, he hops off, pulling a can from no where and tapping it against unseen walls. With confusion settling in, I stutter and stumble, struggling to find my feet and follow after him.

"Wait," I cry. He hears me, I know -it is obvious from the turn of the ear, but he ignores my plea.

I must move faster –_run_.

I run, yes, but it feels as though I have not moved at all. Frustrated and tired now, I watch his figure drift off into the distance, farther and farther from my reach. It is a futile and hopeless wish to follow him.

Turn away; coming to a stop just to grumble curses under my breath. Admitting the defeat I suffer is harder than I imagined it to be. Harder than I wanted it to be.

Returning attention the space before me I find myself staring at a dragon. A bright blue dragon, the sort one might see in old Chinese fables with hairs lining his spine in place of spikes and a long, twisting body. His jaws open wide as he grows closer, and though I am afraid, I stand still as he swallows me whole.

The result could have never been expected. Instead of meeting a vile end in the bowls of the great beast, I found myself in a meadow like nothing I have seen before.

The sky above a vibrant pink, the ground below so many shimmering colours under the orange sun as silver leaves nestled in the branches of blue trees shook and rustled. As my eyes go wide, a flock of gold geese fly by with their feathered hats and spectacles, cats at my side sip their tea and skim the town's paper. One adjusts his pin-striped coat and brings a monocle to his eye, announcing to the others that there is to be a dance in the Great Hall.

They jitter and giggle.

I stare in utter confusion.

Reaching out, I wish to touch them, tap their shoulder and gain their attention. Only to ask them to explain this world I have been dropped into. But as my fingers reach them my skin spirals from my hand in ribbons, spreading outward in wide circles, rising up my arm to reveal nothing more than a hazy outline of my hand.

It passes right through one of the feline's arm.

This startles and frightens me. Quickly, I pull my hand back. Immediately the skin returns into its place –only to spiral off again as I reach for a second try.

Perhaps I am not allowed to interact with these strange creatures.

But there are so many things I want to know. So many things I wish to be told, and questions I wish to have answers to. I am not content with this law of remaining nothing more but a shadow to their world.

'...shle...'

A voice enters my head, hovering over my senses like a thick cloud -heavy and nearly impossible to get through. A thick screen allowing only a brief second of the voice to pass through, then closing off all other sounds. Not even my own thoughts allowed to speak to me. Such a thing could drive one insane. But I already believe I have become such.

Sigh and turn away, turn my attention to the sea of copper grass with boats of glimmering flowers floating along the surface.

'...shle...uh...'

Again that voice. Though it is much closer now.

I turn, searching for the owner of that voice, my eyes find themselves falling on the figure of two cats. A tall, lean black cat dressed in a dark maroon zoot suit with a small pocket watch. His gold eyes trigger a memory, one I cannot seem to trace. The other feline a little treasure with pink skin gleaming through her white fur. One green eye and one blue to match her spring-coloured gown, Victorian in all its splendor.

The black one reaches his paw out to me.

Hesitant.

I take it and he flips open the gold watch and a bright glow surrounds us. It is warm for such a short moment before a chill wavers over me. My little friends are gone, having left without warning and erasing their path.

'Ashley!'

I jump, startled to hear my mother's voice screaming at me.

A warm brush of fur rubs against my face and I find my little black cat has returned to greet me. Though he is no longer dressed, naked, and holds no watch...

And he is Patrick, Victoria screeching at me from behind him.

I blink.

Then perhaps my short-lived journey was nothing more than a dream. A simple, excusable dream brought upon by my imagination.

Yes, my imagination.

It is the perpetrator.


End file.
